


Can't Catch a Break

by organisedhavoc



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types, Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan
Genre: Again, Angst, BAMF Percy Jackson, F/M, Powerful Percy Jackson, the gods fuck everything up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-15
Updated: 2020-04-15
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:02:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23668060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/organisedhavoc/pseuds/organisedhavoc
Summary: ‘Hello, Queen Hera.’ He managed a disingenuous grin. He hoped she couldn’t see how brittle it was. ‘Care to tell me why you're ruining my life again?’Without Annabeth by his side, he was pretty sure he was going to have a long list of pissed off gods waiting for him by the end of, whatever this was.
Relationships: Annabeth Chase/Percy Jackson
Comments: 8
Kudos: 263





	Can't Catch a Break

**Author's Note:**

> I have noticed a distinct lack in powerful and/or dark percy fanfictions that are not totally off the deep end and as a result, this came to be. I wanted to make this chapter longer but it reached its natural end. Also have to find a way to insert beckendorf in here some where, majorly underrated character and he deserves more.

Percy was clutching at the last few moments of his peaceful dream. There was yet to be a night where his unconscious rendering of the world did not switch over from blissful dreams of him and his friends to the shreds of insanity Tartarus had planted into his brain.

This time, there were talons clutching on the peripheral of the images in his mind. One distinctly sharp and grotesquely long fingernail ( _come on dude ever gotten a manicure?)_ rested directly over Annabeth's face, effectively yanking him from his sleep and placing him on high alert.

He'd gotten pretty good at waking up at the first sign of what he considered a _completely different brand_ of nightmare. Take your worst dream and multiply it by 1000. Even then it doesn't compare to the very realistic feeling of your skin being ripped from your body. And that was when they were on the less traumatic side.

He didn't care to see what his subconscious may have had in store for him tonight. At least he was safe with his arms around Annabeth in their apartment in New Rome. He went to pull her closer just to remind himself that she was really there. And fuck if he didn’t thank the gods (if only because they were the only ones he could thank) for that every day.

But she wasn’t there.

His arms were curled around air. His eyes flashed open and _oh- oh fuck._

He was huffing air into his lungs when he realized, the air burned.

He looked to his left and noticed an unfortunately familiar river of fire.

He'd known it as soon as he took that first breath. But that didn't make the reality staring him in the face any better.

He was in Tartarus. Again.

_You've got to be kidding me._

At this point he barely even had the energy to be angry, he was just annoyed. He scowled, his head still resting on the jagged rocks and craned his neck to look down and assess his body.

 _Great._ Not only was he in Tartarus (Hell’s Literal Asshole), but he was in Tartarus (Hell's Literal Asshole), in pajama pants and a hoodie. _Fan-fucking-tastic._

Hera floated above the river which, in parallel parts of his brain made him simultaneously think _'Of course.'_ and _'What the fuck?'_

Gods aren't supposed to come down here _._ But _he_ wasn't exactly supposed to be down here either, even though neither time had been born of Percy's genuine desire to take a tour of the infernal pit.

Gods had a knack for not following the rules anyhow. He was living proof. He snorted at the thought and then turned to Hera. He glared at the goddess long and hard, noting the shimmer around her body. Almost as if she wasn't there. And oh. There was the anger.

 _A projection._ He gritted his teeth. _Of course. Gods never put themselves in danger, but Percy Jackson? Oh, they had an absolute field day._

He pinched the bridge of his nose the way he had seen his mother do every time he described his more dangerous quests to her and finally addressed the (cow, bitch, piece of shit) _goddess._

He scrambled to his feet, graceful as a pig on ice, not from fluster, but those craggly _rocks_ they called a floor and gave her a distinctly sarcastic and overzealous bow.

‘Hello, Queen Hera.’ He managed a disingenuous grin. He hoped she couldn’t see how brittle it was. ‘Care to tell me why you're ruining my life again?’

Without Annabeth by his side, he was pretty sure he was going to have a long list of pissed off gods waiting for him by the end of, whatever this was.

Hera was staring at him blankly. Angry he would have to address the goddess again, he cursed to himself.

‘Well?’ Resentment dripped off his words, palpable in the already harsh air, but Percy couldn’t really bring himself to care. He was in Tartarus. For the second time. Alone. If there was ever a time to be angry, he was pretty sure this was it.

Her voice boomed and instinctually Percy looked around to see if she had roused any monsters until he realized her voice was only in his mind.

‘Tread carefully demigod. I am the only one who can get you out of here.’

Well, it was nice to see that she was just as full of it as she always was. Some things just don’t change.

He spoke aloud in spite of himself. Monsters be damned. He was a veteran and he was pretty sure _(hoping against hope)_ that he could handle whatever blisters Tartarus would muster up for now.

‘Considering you’re also the one that put me here, and the fact that gods are not welcome in Tartarus I can’t say I’m feeling particularly hopeful or grateful right now.’

She considered him and spoke with a honey voice that would make you think she wasn’t capable of the things she had put him through.

‘Perseus. I need something from you.’

He snorted. ‘I figured.’

He knew deflecting with humor would stop working for him soon, and he would have to confront the fact that he was back in the most terrifying place he’d been in all eighteen years of his life.

He was sure Tartarus would beat him this time. He was by himself. Without Annabeth to help him strategize he might as well give up now.

He was so tired of fighting. He’d been through so much. It would be so easy to hurl the most colorful array of curses at Hera in hopes that she would smite him and end this nightmare. And if that didn’t work, he could just lie on the ground and wait for one of the pit’s evil inhabitants to kill him.

A voice suddenly disrupted his thoughts.

_It’s the River Cocytus, Percy. That’s what’s making you think like this. You must be right between it and the Phlegethon._

It was a certain blonde’s voice. One he knew was going to be _very_ angry when she woke up.

Well. That would explain why he was ready to just sit down and die. He tried to take stock of _anything_ good about being down here. At least he wasn’t injured this time. He shook his head, trying to expel the thoughts the Cocytus had implanted in his mind.

The thought of Annabeth was as refreshing as a dip in the sea for the son of Poseidon. She would _definitely_ kill him if he died. He rolled his shoulders and made up his mind.

He’d do whatever the evil bitch- er _Queen Hera,_ needed or die trying. And when he got back, he was going to find somewhere he and Annabeth couldn’t be found by monsters, needy Gods, and everything else that liked to disrupt his peace _and_ relationship over the years.

He heaved a sigh and tried to maintain at least a guise of respect.

‘And what do you need my help with Lady Hera.’ His tone laid it on a little thick, but it was either that or curse her to a hell even worse than Tartarus. If it existed. Percy figured that if it did, one of his quests would have ended up there by now.

Her eyes flashed. ‘There are stirrings of another rebellion, Perseus.”

He resisted the urge to correct her. He’d need all the help he could get until he got out of there, and he _would_ get out of there.

‘The Titan Prometheus is gathering an army. I was able to learn of his plans quicker than with Kronos or Gaea. But as I’m sure you know; gods are not allowed here.” Her form flickered as though to emphasize her point.

“Now as the Titan of Forethought, he would only act if he was nigh certain of his victory. Which is why we need you. I’m hesitant to admit this as you know I’m not particularly fond of _heroes_.” She said the word like it was a curse.

She continued, “He would be a fool to underestimate you after the Battle of Manhattan, but, as a lover of humans he would never think us to be so heinous to send a demigod into Tartarus for a second time.” She glanced around the pit, and then looked closely at Percy, assessing him.

 _You and me both Prometheus._ Annabeth whispered in his mind again _Why would Prometheus try and cause an uprising? It doesn’t make any sense._ Was he going crazy? Probably. But he had a feeling that voice would be the only thing keeping him alive.

He voiced his concerns to Hera, “Why would Prometheus try and cause an uprising? He knows he’s not more powerful than Gaea and we saw how that ended.”

Hera grimaced. “That is what I don’t know. I fear he knows something I don’t.”

Percy sighs. _They never could make it easy._ Even worse, this time, there was no oracle or prophetic teddy bear organs to inform him of what he had to do either.

Not to be deterred, Hera clasped her hands together. “I think a dip in the Styx is in order. Preferably before Prometheus finds out you’re down here and sends his steadily growing army after you.” Percy almost protested, but he knew it was the only way he would make it through this. He frowned.

“Let me guess. You can’t transport me there.”

“Unfortunately, the amount of power that would take would alert the other gods to my activities, and I’d rather your father not know I placed you here. There are limits to what I can do but I will guide you to the best of my abilities Perseus. Your sacrifice will not be for naught.”

“But why _me_?”

Hera grumbled. “You’re going to make me say it aren’t you. I’m reluctant to admit it, but, unfortunately for you, you are the most powerful demigod Olympus has ever seen.”

Percy frowned. That would be cool under literally any other circumstance that didn’t require him to singlehandedly take down an army headed by a titan in Tartarus.

He was more resigned than anything. Either this or everyone he cared about would be in danger, _again._ He hoped the gods would let him do whatever the equivalent of retirement was after this and that these titans and primordials would just _give up_. Haven’t they been paying attention? They had to be at least somewhat aware that every coup against the gods and humanity had been decidedly unsuccessful.

The thought only made him worry. What did Prometheus know that he didn’t? He’s the Titan of _Forethought_ , no way he’d try something like this unless he was almost positive he would win.

Percy also had a lingering feeling that Hera was holding something back from him. Whether that was because of their turbulent past or if she had given him a reason for genuine concern, he wasn’t yet sure.

He decided to probe her a bit “Anything else I should know?”

There was the slightest bit of hesitance that he was sure only someone as unfortunately familiar with the goddess as he would notice. “No. But know this Perseus. You can only call on me three times after this. Otherwise, the other gods will find out our secret and unintentionally alert Prometheus that they know of his plans. This must not happen.”

Percy nodded and reached for Riptide in his pocket. It was there like it always was. He took a deep breath and started to the River Cocytus. Hera's form flickered in the distance until it disappeared.

_I hope my dumb luck that’s kept me alive so far hasn’t worn off yet._

The voice answered.

_Me too, Seaweed Brain._


End file.
